Worth the Wait
by DeniseV
Summary: J.D.'s been waiting for Ezra. So has Inez, but for a decidedly different reason. I am rating this M to be safe, but I think it's okay as a T. Shrug.


"Well," Ezra panted, a light sheen of sweat evident on his face, the only part of his person visible at the moment as he was otherwise more or, at least, in one particular area, less dressed. He breathed heavily as he added, "That was … " he panted some more as his scrambled brain struggled for the proper word to describe precisely what that just was.

"Yes," Inez agreed, sure of what she was agreeing to, not as interested in finding a word for it.

"Ah must … go," the gambler said as he leaned in for a kiss. They broke that kiss quickly, both still in need of air. That had not been the case with their first kiss, the one that brought them to their current state of mostly dressed. Their foreheads touched as their breaths wafted across each other's cheeks.

"When will we … " Inez began, but Ezra knew the question as well as the answer.

"Ah fear it will be a while." Ezra buttoned up, straightened all that needed straightening, and left his room without doing what he had come there to do. The sigh from the Mexican beauty expressed frustration for them both.

* * *

"You said after the New Year, Ezra," J.D. Dunne said. The young sheriff currently reminded the gambler Ezra Standish a little bit of Fred the hound dog, when Fred wanted to play fetch with a ball or stick. Unfortunately for the former con man, J.D. was far more persistent, more dogged, one might say, than Fred, whose other great interest in life besides his own natural doggedness revolved around moving his body to positions of rest that followed the daily path of the sun through Four Corners. That, and spending as much time as he could with his favorite person in the dusty frontier town.

"Ah did at that," Ezra admitted. Around the holidays, J.D. had asked if Ezra would teach him some of the card sharp's exceptional observational skills. The resident professional poker player and member, along with J.D. and five more men, of the brotherhood famously known as The Magnificent Seven, assured the Easterner that he'd been a student all along and had absorbed a lot of what Ezra had to teach him, even though Ezra made no conscious effort to do so.

The time had come to close this deal.

"So, when can we do it?" J.D. scooted past his friend to take his position at the desk in the jail, on time to relieve Ezra.

"Shall we meet at the livery tomorrow at one o'clock?" the gambler asked. He tried to keep his lack of enthusiasm for the task to himself.

"That's kind of a late start, isn't it?" J.D. asked.

"Is it?" Ezra countered.

"Well, I don't know," J.D. replied quizzically.

"Then let us say that it is not. We can always plan an additional afternoon if needs be."

"Thanks for doin' this, Ezra. You know, the more I thought about what you said, that I might have learned more than I think, the more I think you're right."

Ezra smiled. "That sounds like a good amount of thinking, son. Of course I am," Ezra said out loud. His own thinking at the moment was more in line with 'damned if this wouldn't be four or five hours he would never get back.' Of the few lessons learned from his mother worth minding, he agreed with her and indeed preferred to leave conversations on a high note. That was a rule he found difficult to follow with the likes of Chris Larabee, Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez, each of those men in possession of both the knowledge of what to prod in the Southerner to elicit an imprudent response, and when to use it. J.D.? He absorbed positive reinforcement like a sponge, so as Ezra headed to the jailhouse exit, he said, "Be sure to have a good night's sleep and a healthful meal." J.D. nodded his assent. "Tomorrow at one o'clock. Have an uneventful shift."

"Thanks. Sleep well," the young sheriff said. Ezra left the building. There would be no sleep for the tired lawman for a while. He walked to the saloon, where he found Chris, Nathan, Josiah and the tracker Vin Tanner finishing their breakfast. It was eight in the morning. Ezra shook his head, wondering what convinced people to consume food so early in the morning, and walked up to Vin.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

"Morning," Josiah said. "Thought you'd be heading straight up to bed." They all knew that Ezra had worked a double-shift as Buck recovered from a worrisome case of influenza.

"Yes, well, unfortunately no," Ezra answered the oldest member of the group of seven men who protected the town, going on three years now. The tired gambler turned to Vin. "Might Ah ask for some of your time this mornin'?"

Vin grinned and asked, "You don't mean right now, do ya?"

"As much as it pains me to say so, yes."

"There a problem?" Chris asked.

"No. Just a commitment Ah made to young J.D. that Ah choose to take care of in the next day or so. Ah should appreciate your assistance, Vin."

"You got it. Whaddya need?"

"I will provide you the details of our effort on the ride out of town."

Nathan looked suspicious. "Seems like you're trying to keep whatever you're up to a secret."

Ezra sighed. He heard the same reaction from Josiah and watched as Chris held the same feeling in his demeanor with the shake of his head. Vin's eyes narrowed to slits as he glared angrily at the healer. Ezra put his hand up in order to forestall the explosion from his normally calm friend.

"Vin," Ezra said in a solicitous tone. He turned to Nathan and asked, "Precisely what sort of nefarious actions would Ah possibly take that Vin Tanner would evah miss?" Nathan's expression changed quickly as he realized his comment had been thoughtless, mean and flat out wrong.

"Sorry, Ez," he said.

Vin stood up, his chair legs screeching against the wood of the saloon's floor. "Hell with that, Nate." He turned to Ezra and said, "Let's go." The former bounty hunter was at the door before the card sharp had risen from his seat.

"It appears that you have angered Mistah Tanner." Nathan lowered his head. "Ah am aware that many times, Nathan, you react to a memory of what you experienced for so many yeahs at the hands of evil men who share mah accent. Ah hope…." The Southerner stopped, pausing thoughtfully to find the word he wanted. "Ah believe that Ah am lookin' at a man who knows me bettah … now." The healer raised his head, sorrow in his eyes. "Ah see that Ah am right." Ezra looked toward the batwing doors. "Vin does not believe as Ah believe. He feels …." Ezra stopped once more, careful of what to say. "It is not mah place to speak for him."

Chris, it seemed, had no qualms about speaking for Vin.

"You make it hard for a man to understand how you can claim to be a friend then go and say the kinds of things you do about Ez." Chris turned to the former con man. "You're a better man than me."

"Thank you," Ezra answered softly.

"Or stupid," the former gunslinger added with a grin.

"Too kind," Ezra countered.

"The thing is," Nathan said, "I know right when I'm sayin' it that it ain't right." Josiah leveled a disapproving look at this black friend. "I can feel you staring at me, Josiah." Nathan turned to the big preacher. "You got something to say, say it."

"I'm just thinkin' that you need to take a breath, think before you speak, _know_ who you're speaking to, at least when it comes to Ezra."

"Yeah," Nathan agreed.

"Ah shall go, then. Ah hope Vin has not left to be with his Indian friends."

Chris replied quickly, "No, he wouldn't do that."

Ezra nodded his agreement. "Nathan, if it makes you feel bettah, Ah asked for Vin's assistance … " The former slave stopped his friend from the South from continuing.

"You don't have to tell me, Ez."

Ezra looked at his friend and tipped his hat. "That is good because Ah have somewhere to be, and Ah would like to get back early this afternoon for a bath and then some sleep before what Ah trust will be a profitable evening at the poker table."

"See you later, Ezra," Chris said

"Be careful out there," Josiah said as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Gentlemen," Ezra replied. He looked at Nathan, who returned a friendly-but-sad smile. The card sharp tipped his hat to his friend and headed to the door.

Once Ezra was gone, Nathan said softly, "Damn."

"That's about right," Chris agreed.

"You'll get there," Josiah said. Chris scowled a little, not ready to let the healer off the hook. Apparently, neither was the healer.

"Wish I was as sure as you, Josiah."

The preacher stood, looked down at his friend and said, "You're the one who needs to be." He headed out the door of the saloon and turned in the direction of the church.

As he approached the livery, Ezra saw Vin already in his saddle atop Peso.

"Let's go."

"Yes, suh!" the gambler said with a crisp salute and telltale signs of military bearing. He quickly saddled Chaucer and joined the tracker on the road out of town. They rode quietly together for nearly twenty minutes before Vin spoke.

"Sorry 'bout bein' short with ya back there. I ain't mad at you."

"You are a little mad at me, Ah think, but mostly you are … disturbed by what Nathan said."

"Yeah, I am. What I don't get is why you ain't."

Vin watched as Ezra sat his horse, straight-backed as ever. They all marveled at the posture, at how elegant Ezra Standish looked in the saddle, even when horse and rider raced at top speed over the landscape. Vin envied that straight back, but it was the thoughtful look on his friend's face that captured his attention this day.

"Ah do not feel anger anymore when Nathan reacts as he did today. Ah feel sorrow for him."

"Sorrow? When he's bein' mean? And wrong?"

"Yes. Despite all of the improvement in our relationship, despite how he treats me as an equal, despite how very much Ah consider him a friend and how Ah know those feelings are shared by our fine healer, he continues to be controlled by the horrendous life he lived as another man's property."

Vin listened as the clouds cleared, never truly threatening rain, as much as they needed it. He replied, "It's been a long time, he ain't a kid, he's a man. You ain't never done nothin' to him, least not since you blabbered that nonsense the first day we met ya. Saved his life more'n once. He should treat you right."

Ezra rode Chaucer over toward the large, familiar boulder. Vin followed as the card sharp said, "Men like me treated Nathan and his family horribly. He was whipped, more than once … "

"Not men like you. Men who sounded like you. 'Sides, you were whipped. So was I."

"It is a traumatic event, somethin' Ah will nevah, evah forget. But it is not the same. We were nevah owned. Ah admit to occasionally feeling that way when Ah was forced to run a con for mah mothah, but it is not the same. Ah wonder how much Ah truly resemble one of the horrid men involved in torturing a young Nathan Jackson."

"Ya may remind Nate of someone, but he owes it to you to remember that you ain't and never was a slave holder, you never ordered the whippin' of a human being. Ya didn't cause Nate to be separated from his mama and his daddy."

"Ah know."

"Then why don't ya tell 'im?" Vin pleaded. His frustration with how both of his friends acted was so evident. Unfortunately, Ezra wasn't going to give Vin any great satisfaction with his answer.

"Ah do not need to tell him. He knows what he is doing, he simply is not yet in a place to control his reactions. Ah cannot demand a response that he cannot give."

"But … "

"Vin," Ezra said as he dismounted, "as much as it seems that he is not tryin', Nathan has made progress. Ah can take what he says to me … about me, and let it go because Ah know that he means very little of it. If he still needs that outlet in order to successfully exorcise his demons, Ah am happy to function as his devil."

Vin watched as Ezra placed a shiny, polished bullet at the top of a thirty-foot boulder. He had shimmied up the rock with ease, but on the way back his foot slipped on a sheer section of rock. He slid with limited control down the last fifteen feet and slammed to a stop in Vin's arms.

Chaucer whinnied his approval.

"Ya'll right?" the handsome former bounty hunter asked.

"Yes. Mah apologies," the gambler said as he stepped back, swiped at the dust that he could reach, and then looked at Vin. "Do you understand what Ah mean about our fine healer?" He reached for his horse's reins.

"Yeah. It's like how ya let Chris treat ya like shit that first year."

"It was not an entire year," Ezra said as they walk together back to the road, Chaucer and Peso following. "Ah believe 'like shit' is hyperbole as well."

"Yes it was and no it ain't."

Ezra swiped once more at the dust and smiled with satisfaction that his friend and student had improved his vocabulary so much since they met. "You do not approve?" He mounted his horse.

"I'm tryin' ta understand why," Vin explained as he, too, got ready to ride.

Ezra and Chaucer continued on, Vin on Peso riding beside them. "Ah have six men who mean something to me. Friendship is something Ah nevah really felt, at least not for a very, very long time." The occasional cousin when he was little, the more-regular slave when he was little older, a comrade or two, both long gone, during the war … it had been a long time since he'd felt such fellowship. "Some of mah relationships heah in Four Corners have been blessedly easy. Ah cannot properly express mah gratitude for what you did to make me feel welcome."

"Weren't no angel, at the beginnin'."

"You or me?" Ezra asked with a tilt of his head and a crooked grin as he wiped his bottom lip with his thumb. Vin cocked his head silently with a similar sardonic look on his face. Ezra knew that was his answer. "You were decidedly friendlier than Chris."

"That ain't sayin' much."

"Perhaps not." They rode companionably without conversation for some distance. "Here will be good." Ezra pulled something out of this saddlebag. "Would you like to place this hangin' from that widest limb?" A cottonwood tree stood large before them. A fair amount of dead leaves continued to protect its bark.

"A toy train?"

"A red caboose. Ah will be testin' young J.D. tomorrow to see how his powers of observation have improved."

"How many more things you got to place besides this and a bullet?"

"A silver bullet. And Ah have eight more."

Vin took the toy, rode to the tree limb and called, "You want it showin'?"

"Just enough," Ezra replied as he rubbed his eyes.

"Tired?"

"Yes."

"Then let's finish this so you can get some shuteye."

"A fine idea."

* * *

J.D. took the lead, Milagro just a horse's head in front of Chaucer. Vin rode behind the two, keeping an eye out as Ezra tested the young sheriff. It was at Chris' request that the tracker join the two, though Vin would have insisted on it. J.D. had impressively found his first seven items that Ezra and Vin had sequestered in the ride toward the Wells ranch and back again. The gambler did not make the test easy; Vin wasn't convinced he would have found the dull, tarnished, mostly gray and black spur positioned up against the similarly colored craggy expanse of rock, winter-bare gray branches of bushes mixed into the tableau.

Ezra kept up a stream of conversation, part of the test, to see how distracted the Easterner might be by the constant bombardment of often useless information coming from the Southerner.

"Ain't yer jaw tired, Ezra?" Vin asked as he lowered the brim of his hat to protect the late day sun from his eyes and face.

"So, you are still heah," Ezra replied dryly.

"Yep. If I ain't got nothin' ta say, I don't bother sayin' it."

The former con man turned in his saddle to look back at the tracker. "A wise philosophy," Ezra agreed. He was tired, it was obvious. They were on their way home, just three more objects for J.D. to spot, when a mountain lion flew from the high rock, hidden until the last minute behind the dried yellow and green of desert sage and chamisa.

"J.D., duck!" Vin yelled. Ezra turned and saw the golden blur. His shot followed Vin's, both hitting their target. The lion slammed, dead, into J.D., who flew from his saddle and rolled safely to a stop. The cat fell to the ground, Milagro took some quick strides past it and waited impatiently for his rider.

"Ya'll right, kid?" Vin asked as he stepped to the lion to make sure it would cause them no more trouble.

"I'm all right," J.D. said as he smacked his hat against his thigh to remove most of the dust but failed to do the same with his suit, which needed it just as badly. He punched the hat back into shape, grabbed Milagro's reins and walked to Ezra, still astride his horse. "Ya see, you were _so_ fast." He placed his hat back on his head. "Vin was behind and could see it happening, but you weren't. You found that cat, aimed and got 'im so fast. Can you teach me that?"

Vin snorted a laugh as Ezra replied, "No doubt a lesson for another day." The Southerner turned to the tracker. "Ah suppose we must bury the poor creature."

"Reckon that's best," Vin agreed.

By the time they finished the unpleasant task, there was enough good daylight left just to get them home, but not enough to worry about the last three items on J.D.'s test.

"Aw, come on. Let me finish," J.D. pleaded. "Wouldn't it be a better test tryin' to find the stuff at dusk?"

"No," Ezra and Vin said in perfect harmony. They smiled at each other, remembering that time the two of them, along with Nathan, sang along the banks of the Animas River in Durango.

J.D. was easily convinced of the sound decision to head straight back to town as thunder roared in the near distance. By the time they reached the livery, the drizzle had become a steady rain, the wind speed increasing with the rate of water Mother Earth was serving up, the ground greedily soaking up the always welcome moisture.

* * *

Ezra was the last of the three to arrive at the saloon, the first and prime order of business for the gambler to give Chaucer a proper drying off, rubdown and just the right amount of the best feed Ezra paid Tiny to keep on hand. Ezra Standish might purchase the very best for himself – when he was flush – but he was equally discerning regarding the care and feeding of his fine steed. He found it easy to ignore his similarly magnanimous ways with his friends when it came to his stash of Kentucky bourbon or other liquor that he occasionally held in his 'secret' reserves.

The Southerner walked straight to the bar and spoke with Inez Rocios, the former con man's lady and the manager of the former Standish Tavern. Their hushed tones and the goodly number of loud, boisterous customers prevented any of the other lawmen at their regular table from hearing what was going on with them. Inez reached her hand out to push the damp curl off of her man's forehead. After they finished talking and Ezra headed for his compatriots, Inez called Tommy over. He nodded his head several times at her instructions, then headed for the kitchen.

"You are looking bettah, Buck," the gambler said as he stood at his chair.

"Feelin' 'bout back to normal, Hoss. You're not lookin' your best," Buck noted.

"Ah am tired." Chris watched as Inez spoke with Tommy, and then he looked back to the exhausted poker player. Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them.

"I'll clear folks out early," the leader of The Seven said.

"Thank you, kindly."

"Did ya get something to eat, Ez?" J.D. asked.

"Ah am not especially hungry, but Inez will be sending something up, regardless."

"You mean bringing _it_ up," Buck said with a smirk and a wink.

Ezra looked ready to punch the mustachioed man, but Josiah's words would suffice, this time.

"So much for the blessing of not hearing comments like that, while you were sick. I don't wish you ill again, brother. I wish you could refrain from such talk about someone we all care about." Josiah said it calmly, even tempered, but there was heat behind those cool, blue eyes.

"Good night," Ezra said. He headed to the staircase. All of his fellow lawmen said their good nights to the retreating poker player, save Buck, who started to argue with the preacher.

"What'd I say? I've said the same a dozen times, half a dozen different ways," Buck said in his defense.

"That's a problem, fer a start," Vin said as he took a chunk of bread and dipped it into his stew.

"What you say about Inez ain't something a gentleman should say about a lady," J.D. commented.

Chris looked on as each of his friends offered their opinion of the former gunslinger's oldest friend. And now it was Chris' turn.

"He's exhausted, even you noticed. You're lucky you've been sick and he's so tired or you'd have the beginnings of a black eye or two."

"Chris, I … " Buck started, but Nathan interrupted to have his say.

"Might've been funny before, but Ez's serious about her. They ain't had the easiest time of it." Nathan shook his head. "You best think on what Chris said. He could hurt you, if he wanted to, if he was pushed far enough." Nathan's eyes grew dark with warning. "I just nursed you through a bad case of influenza. You ain't ready to take the kind of beating Ezra could visit on you."

"Come on! I was joking."

"It ain't funny," Chris said as he stood up, preparing to clear the saloon. "Stop doin' it." Vin stood as well, so did J.D., and the three men started ushering the customers out.

"Why's it all of a sudden not funny?" Buck asked.

Josiah knocked back the rest of his shot of whiskey. "Buck, take a close look at Ezra and Inez, together. Now. Things are different. Make a point to look at them. Remember how things were last summer. Think on all of that. I know you'll figure out why it's not funny." Josiah stood up, saw that he was not needed by Chris, and turned toward the exit. "See you in the morning."

"Good night," Nathan said.

"'Night, 'siah," Buck added quietly. The other three lawmen called their good nights to the preacher.

Within twenty minutes, the place was cleared of people, Tommy and J.D. had wiped down the tables, Chris and Vin followed and placed the chairs upside down on them to make it easier for Tommy to sweep the floor.

Chris stepped over to the pretty Mexican woman. She had a tray that was obviously loaded with food and drink.

"Do you need help with that?" he asked.

"No. I can handle this. Thank you for taking care of the crowd."

"Happy to do it. Do you need us to stay?"

"No. Tommy will lock up and finish cleaning up." She had taken care of closing down the kitchen; Tommy would only have the bar to worry about after the floor was done. Inez looked to J.D. and Vin. "Thank you."

They both tipped their hats. J.D. said, "We were glad we could help."

"All right. Let's get out of here," Chris ordered. They all left with the saloon manager's thanks. Inez and Buck shared a look, and then she headed directly for the stairs. As the five men left the building, Tommy locked the door behind them and worked in the slowly dimming light, sweeping and taking care of the lamps along the way. He took the glasses and pitchers to the back sink for cleaning and wiped the bar down. He looked up to see Buck Wilmington looking up to the second floor from the boardwalk outside. Chris Larabee then came in view, putting his arm around Buck's shoulders. They headed down the boardwalk and out of sight.

Upstairs, Inez placed the tray on the dresser.

"Ah am not … "

"You will like it," Inez said. "Get in bed," she ordered as she took some of the towels away from the tray. She first brought him a steaming mug. "Your favorite," she said as she left the aromatically tantalizing spiked drink on the bedside table.

Ezra removed his vest; his jacket was already hung up and wiped down. "Ah need to clean off …." Inez turned to look at him, hunger in her eyes, and not the kind of hunger that had the gambler's stomach grumble embarrassingly at just that moment. She laughed out loud, he turned a little red in the face and rolled his eyes as he plumped the pillows and sat up in the bed, his legs crossed. Inez brought the tray over, slapped his leg, the indicator that he needed to uncross his legs. One towel remained over a plate as she set the tray over his lap. She walked to her side of the bed and sat close to her man.

"Voilà!" she said with a knowing grin as she removed the cloth in dramatic fashion to expose some of Ezra's favorite foods. The two feasted, Ezra shocked at how truly famished he was. Avocados on toast made with bread baked by Gloria Potter. Hard boiled eggs. A bowl of wild rice full of sweet corn and green chiles. More toast, this time with butter churned by Dottie Pike. Peaches, always peaches, this time in a fancy jar. Some of Ezra's cherished cognac from France to wash it down.

"Good heavens, Inez, that was exactly what Ah wanted and Ah didn't even know it. Thank you, darlin'." Ezra reached over and tenderly put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She ended it, pulled back, and gave her man a beautiful smile, a seductive lick of her luscious lips and a smoldering look.

"Un momento," Inez said as she took the tray and removed it to the dresser. A sound from Ezra, the man obviously unable to hide the sound of his arousal, had Inez smile and chastise, "Paciencia, mi amor." She kept her back to him as she undid the buttons of her skirt, letting it pool at her feet, and then allowed the full blouse to fall to the floor. She removed her undergarments, all slowly, knowing that Ezra was behind her, exposing the globes of her shapely behind to him, his eyes soon to enjoy her abundant breasts. She imagined he was trying to remain quiet as he prepared himself for her. Just before she was ready to turn to him and offer him the first of many delights she had planned for him, she heard another sound.

It was not the sound of arousal.

She turned to find Ezra Standish … asleep. And snoring.

"What?" she demanded. It did no good, Ezra was sleeping as heavily as she had ever seen. She walked over and kissed his open mouth.

Nothing.

Frustrated, the beautiful woman walked to her side of the bed, climbed in, and undid Ezra's trousers. She'd woken him quite a lot from sleep to erection. This night it might be a challenge, but she was up for a challenge, even if her man currently wasn't. She clasped the organ and fondled it with a knowing … hand. As she worked her magic with a steadily faster, firmer touch, she reached her tongue into her lover's ear, a place she learned was particularly sensitive to her sensuous manipulation.

Nothing.

An inadvertent squeak of frustration from her did not wake the comatose man. She kept up the massage of Ezra's penis as she used her other hand to push back further the gambler's pants and his shirt from his navel. She leaned in for a lick there, swirling her tongue around the tiny button, tasted some sweat mixed in with the very familiar orange-spice soap and even more familiar taste of his skin. She laved and suckled the indentation, continued the massage with her right hand and used her left to tweak Ezra's nipple.

No reaction at all.

She stopped her current actions and watched to make certain he was still breathing. She huffed with indignation at her findings and took Ezra's limp manhood in her mouth. She worked the organ, somewhat roughly but somehow managed to suppress her urge to bite down. She reached underneath, fondling his sacs, placing her finger at his opening and rubbing it while she sucked and licked his penis.

Still nothing.

Inez sat up and sighed. She knew he had worked hard these last few days. In between the double shift patrolling the town, he had set up and given J.D. his test, taught a lesson to the children of the town each of the last three days, did the monthly accounting settlement for several of the businesses that he worked with regularly, and hosted regular card games each night this week.

She had been busy, too, and not spent a night with Ezra since the afternoon she returned from her cousin's place in Las Cruces, that too-quick dalliance when he found her in his room, fully dressed with her skirt bunched up to her bosom, her arm holding the layers out of the way as she pleasured herself on his bed. The speed of that coupling, the crushing, near-immediate nature of their climaxes embarrassed them both.

"Well, Ezra Standish, you owe me," she said now as she leaned across him, her breasts skimming his lips, and turned down the oil lamp.

And still nothing.

She knew this would not be a debt he failed to satisfy. She lay down beside him, resting her head on his pillow and her hand on his inner thigh, his organ soft and disinterested resting up against her pinky. Her little finger twitched, her other fingers followed suit, and before she knew it, Inez was working Ezra's penis once more. She took her other hand and touched her nipples, a featherlight touch. She knew this would lead to pleasure for herself, Ezra had more than once brought her to orgasm without being in the room, those long nights when they were apart – separated, often thinking the separation permanent - sometimes ending with pleasuring herself to climax, followed by a long cry. She was sure they were together for good this time. She smiled and bit her lip as she could feel herself getting close, not needing to touch herself down there to find herself spasm with the thought of him in her.

"Oh," she said softly as she threw her head back and brought her knees up. She scissored her legs, up to her stomach and then back down toward the foot of the bed. She panted, dropped the limp organ and used both hands on her breasts.

"Oh!" Inez nearly screamed, forcing her mouth into her own pillow. She orgasmed, breathing heavily, knowing she would be ready when Ezra finally was.

It would be worth the wait.

The End.


End file.
